`December 12th. Winter; 1947`

It had been a week since Alfred arrived in Berlin, a strange experience after less than a year in a war zone. Tensions remained high, with Berlin being occupied by opposing poles. Alfred was assigned to work with local civilians on reconstruction and protection operations impacting the Allied powers, the Soviet Union, and the United States.

This left him having to cooperate with, well, Soviets... Probably sent to protect their country's ideological interests, Alfred supposed. How greedy, he thought. Well, technically, he was doing the same, but still...

He was assigned a knowledgeable Russian-Soviet soldier as a guide in Berlin—what luck!

No worries. If all goes well, he'll leave this place in a few weeks, away from those communists.

Alfred surveyed the crumbling city around him, trying to ignore the dust that scratched his throat. Every building looked like a shadow of its former self, the broken windows and cracked walls giving the deserted street a ghostly air. As he turned the corner, he came face to face with a man who seemed to be waiting for him. Alfred let his blue eyes subtly scan the man, his hands going into his pants pockets. Huh, not bad...

“So I'll assume you’re my… guide?”